


From Me To You

by JamieLegend



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Hurt, Sad, finished work, so much sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5163860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieLegend/pseuds/JamieLegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that people that you love and lose, never really leave you. Sigurd hated that saying, yet could only agree to it. Again, and again, he always agreed to it. Eight years ago, his high school sweetheart, Joanne, had to move away and in less than two months, she disappeared from his life. Now, just when he thought he was over her and had finally moved on, a letter arrived to give him a second chance. Will he take it or refuse to gamble with what remained of his heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Overdue Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first work here and I hope you like it - please leave a comment if you did! Or didn't? I don't know.  
> Quick reminder, the name I use for Norway is Sigurd Heyerdahl, female Iceland is Eyja and for female Denmark Joanne Andersen.  
> This will be a three chapter story, so the next chapter should be up in, at most, two weeks. ( I fucked up. )

“And we're gonna talk over the phone all the time, and we can text, y’know? And besides, it’s just one year, aye?” Joanne’s eyes were bright, hopeful, bursting with life. Her eyes were what drew Sigurd to her, those wide, blue eyes.  
“Just one year.” He repeated, before he pulled his pesky girlfriend close and kissed her, harder than before. Joanne was leaving soon after all. Her father finally got that promotion that the family was dreaming about but unfortunately for the lovey dovey couple, that job was in Denmark, and so.. so far away.  
“Just one year.” She murmured against his lips, and nodded slightly, causing her hair to tickle his face and he could almost...  
That’s when Sigurd opened his eyes.  
The room was dark and the alarm clock was beeping - it’s piercing, glaring sound echoed through the room, destroying the some fragment of tranquility that spread through the dark room.  
“Turn it off..” A soft voice broke through the harming sound of the alarm clock. Her voice was laced with sleepiness, making her sound like a drowsy, still sleepy cat, but most of all her voice was wrong. It lacked the sleepy grunt and gruff that she had, and her voice was never this sweet in the morning.  
“Sigurd..”  
He lifted his skinny fingers and pressed down on the clock, making the beeping sound shut up immediately, and the room again felt silent, as if the blaring of the clock never happened.  
She shifted and he could feel the weight of her head, arm, and shoulder on his chest but he didn’t look down to the sleepy girl as his dark, hollow eyes stayed focused on the ceiling above them.  
“Good morning Eyja.”  
/  
They say that long distance relationship don’t work out because of the distance. Out of sight, out of mind, they say.  
For Sigurd it was never like that. His thoughts were just as filled with her as when she was with him. The only difference was that she wasn’t here. It was a lot more quiet. Silence suffocated, but he tried to ignore it by telling himself it was just for one year. One short, tiny year and they would be together again, in University. They would live together, sleep together, eat together, she would be grumpy in the morning, he would be grumpier, but they would still be close to each other. He would have his darling Dane back for him to hold.  
It was going well.  
Every night, they would use that weird computer program to talk. She’d tell him about her day, about her new school, about her classmates, about dogs she petted in the train, or the cats that were lounging in the soft sun rays.  
It was going well.  
‘ Good morning’ 06:30 Jan 21  
‘ if you overslept your mom will yell at you. ‘ 7:35 Jan 21  
‘ Again. ‘ 8:00 Jan 21  
‘Joanne.’ 8:45 Jan 21  
‘Joanne Andersen.‘ 9:30 Jan 21  
‘ Joanne it’s lunchtime. Are you sick?’ 12:15 Jan 21  
‘Joanne answer me.’ 16:30 Jan 21  
‘Joanne where the fuck are you.’ 18:00 Jan 21  
‘Answer me on the computer.’ 21:00 Jan 21  
‘...’ 23: 45 Jan 21  
‘Are you mad at me?’ 3:15 Jan 22  
‘...If you broke your phone, I’ll whoop your ass.’ 8:00 Jan 22  
‘Joanne..’ 21:00 Jan 23  
‘Joanne, why aren’t you answering me? I tried Facebook too..’ 19:23 Jan 24  
‘... elskede, please.’ 23:46 Jan 25  
‘Please answer me.’ 15:46 Jan 26  
‘I’m begging you.’ 12:42 Jan 27  
‘I love you, please.’ 23:59 Jan 28  
/

“Come on Sigurd, you’re taking forever..” Her voice was whiny and annoying and he just wanted her to shut up. Was it so hard for her to shut the fuck up? Sigurd wasn’t even in the bathroom for too long. Just fifteen minutes or so, staring at his own reflection. He wasn’t marveling it – far from it. Sigurd knew he was handsome, since he was told that since he was a tiny kid. He had nice, high cheekbones, and his fair skin was a stark comparison to his dark, blue eyes. He was staring at his expression because.. Because he wondered where he changed. What changed about him since Joanne dropped off the face of the Earth?  
Had he become colder, less interested, less alive? Joanne was all the life he had, all the life he needed. She was bright, she was loud, she was bursting with life and joy for the world around her. He never met anyone like her after she disappeared. No one matched that brightness like she had.  
And in one second she was gone.  
He tried contacting her in every way possible, tried contacting her family, everyone she was friends with on Facebook. But nothing. No one knew where she went – most of them thought that he would know considering he was her boyfriend.  
Joanne was gone so Sigurd did the thing that was expected of him to do. He moved on. Quietly, without telling anyone, he slowly picked up pieces of his broken heart, glued them back together and pretended that there were no cracks in his hollow heart.  
But that was a lie, and most of his old friends were aware of it. Sometimes, they’d try to ask him about it, but he would dismiss them before they could even utter something deeper about the question that always started with ‘Say, Sigurd have you..’. He just wasn’t having it. At all. After all, what was there to say?  
Joanne stopped talking to him. Joanne disappeared. What was there to say? What would any words make different?  
He sometimes wondered what would have happened if he went to Denmark.  
Would he find her there, in arms of another man? A man who was warmer than he was in front of other people? Would he find her there, healthy and still smiling like she always had? Would her hair grow long or would she keep it short? What would happen if he went to Denmark?  
Sigurd reached out and opened the bathroom door, greeted with the sleepy eyes of his girlfriend. “Sorry.” He muttered quietly and went around to get dressed fully and go to work.  
He said his goodbyes to her as she did her makeup, and went out. He grabbed his coffee at the same corner shop, got in his car and drove to work.  
His job was at a laboratory, so it was normal for him to scrub his hands after coming in to work. He went to leave his things at his office and head to the experiment section. After all, he wanted to check on his Petri dish. But he was stopped when he saw a letter on his desk. His pale eyebrows furrowed over the letter, and he decided to sit down and read it in peace.  
He didn’t bother with reading the sender’s address, and simply opened the envelope, taking out the nicely folded white paper which he easily flipped open and dropped the envelope on the desk so he could read it.

Dear Sigurd,  
If you’re reading this it means I have died. I’m so sorry you had to find this out this way, but I suppose there is no other way.  
This, my dear boy, is my dying wish. I’m guessing you barely remember me now, if life served me well and I lived long, but I’m Joanne’s mother, Anneise.  
Oh, I wish so much that I got to watch you grow up and head off to that fancy university you and my daughter planned on. You were always so smart, even in high school. Always top of your class, weren’t you? I was so proud of you, even if you weren’t my own.  
You’re probably wondering why I decided to send this letter. Well, it’s about my daughter.  
You know how Joanne attended those extra classes, so she could even attempt to pass that entrance exam? And she was doing so well, bless her heart. She even scored ninety on Physics! I always thought she’d pursue Physics. But.. One night, my husband went to pick her up. Those classes sometimes outstretched late in the night, and we lived on the outskirts. I thought they would come home sooner..  
The night was very dark, Sigurd dear. And it was raining so much, I can still hear it against the window pan. It was a bad decision, I know it was.. But their car wavered, and they crashed, Sigurd. Their car swayed, and I think they lost control of it... When help came, their car had already rolled over a few times and they were currently wrapped around a tree bark.  
I know you must be thinking that she is dead. She isn’t, Sigurd. My husband unfortunately did die, but luckily he died immediately, so he wasn’t in pain. Joanne wasn’t as lucky. She suffered so much, Sigurd. Because of the impact, she suffered serious injuries. She became paralyzed from the waist down, and her head suffered too.. She has problems learning new things. Her motor skills fell so much too. She can barely write, let alone type. I offered her that we go back to you, so she can be with you. I knew she’d feel better if she was with you. I know she would.. But Joanne refused. She said that if she did that, that you would be worried out of your mind, and you would give too much of your time to her and then you’d lose the sight of your goal. On her request, I shut off her Facebook and took out her SIM card. She disappeared from your life.  
I know you must have been worried and wanted her back. I tried so hard to get her to talk to you, but you know Jo, no one is quite as stubborn as that girl is. She tried so hard to get back on her feet, or well as much as she could.  
I decided I had to reach out to you – even if it’s from the grave. I hope you’re doing well, and that you are still an amazing man you have always been. I’m so proud of you.  
That’s why I’m going to ask you for a favour. For her and my sake, could you please go and see her? With this letter I have attached a two way ticket to Denmark – in case you don’t wish to stay with her, and the key to our apartment along with the address. She.. She still loves you Sigurd. More than I have seen anyone love. That’s why I’m going to ask you to try for her sake.  
But if you choose not to, I will respect that as well. All the best wishes and love in this world to you, my dear Sigurd.  
Sincerely yours,  
Anneise

/

“I still don’t understand.” Eyja said, with her knee pressing against his suitcase, her violet eyes trained on the top of Sigurd’s back as he pulled out a fresh pair of pants. She turned to the side slightly as Sigurd went past her and placed it in his suitcase.  
“I thought I explained it all pretty well.” He said simply before going back to his closet.  
“You did, but I just don’t understand the why aspect of the whole story. The girl dumped you, disappeared from your life, and now you decided to go and see her?”  
“Yes.”  
“But she left you.”  
“She did.”  
“And you are just going back? What about me, Sigurd?” She said and grabbed him by his hand. Sigurd stiffened at her touch and looked over his shoulder to her.  
“...What about you?”  
The girl winced, her eyes growing a tad wider before she roughly pushed his hand away. “Real nice, Sigurd.” She growled at him, her teeth clenched together.  
He sighed and turned to face her. “She’s a cripple. Didn’t you read the letter? Besides, she was an only child. Am I supposed to just leave her there?”  
“Well yes! She could have spoken to you anytime she wanted to!” The girl quickly protested and frowned at him. Sigurd narrowed his eyes slightly and placed a hand over his hip.  
“But she didn’t.”  
“Exactly!”  
“Exactly so.”  
“So you won’t go?” Her voice was almost pleading, almost desperate. Sigurd simply turned and placed his toiletries bag in his suitcase.  
“I’m going.”  
The girl scoffed and stood up. Her sweatshirt was crumpled but he decided not to comment on it as he closed his suitcase.  
“A-As your girlfriend.. I don’t want you to go.”  
“You’re welcomed to come with.” Sigurd pulled his suitcase down from the bed, the little wheels letting out a tiny squeal as they met the hard floor.  
“I don’t want to meet her!”  
“You can explore Denmark.”  
“That’s not it. I don’t want you to go and visit some girl you had a past with. A girl who still loves you.”  
“Who knows when she wrote that letter. I’m just going to check on her. Her mother died.” He sneered at her as his patience was wearing thinner by the second.  
The girl let out a tiny whine and reached out to snatch his jacket away from him before he could have it. Sigurd watched as she pressed it against her chest, her nails going into the softness of his navy jacket. “.. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”  
“My work is here. Of course, I’ll come back.”  
“To me, Sigurd.”  
Sigurd heaved a sigh before he looked over to her desperate expression. He almost felt sorry for her. But maybe he was just a selfish prick who didn’t want to be alone. Maybe he really wasn’t honest at all.  
Because if he was honest he wouldn’t say the sentence that spilled over his lip.  
“To you.”  
The girl smiled, easing her grip on the jacket and leaned over to press her lips against his cheek. He took his jacket from her and gave her a curt nod. “I should get going.”  
“I can drive you..” She offered, following him to the hallway.  
“No need. I already ordered a taxi.” He said simply as he slipped in his shoes and took his messenger bag.  
“All right then. Be careful.” She smiled to him and Sigurd nodded simply before stepping out and leaving. 

/

The letter had been read multiple times. The ink smudged at few spots from where his thumb was harshly pressed against it. Sigurd remembered Anneise clearly. She was a darling woman, a devoted mother. She always left notes in Joanne’s lunch bag, and always made food she liked. When she heard that his parents never made him lunch, she went out of her way to make lunch for him as well every day. And if something came up and she couldn’t, she’d give Joanne money for both of them. He liked dinners at their place. Anneise was a great cook really, and she always made sure that everyone was well fed and felt good during those family dinners. He even got a Christmas present.  
He wondered what happened to her that she died so early. Once, Joanne mentioned that she was sickly, but he never once saw her sick. Maybe the stress of losing her spouse and her child being so sick got to her before the flow of time could.  
Sigurd made a mental note to ask Joanne where her parent’s graves are so he could visit them and pay his respect. They deserved that much at least.  
His eyes darted from the letter to the taxi driver as he pulled up in front of a rather cute looking house, small, dark red with white blindfolds. Branches of a willow tree swayed lazily in the afternoon breeze in front of it. Out of the corner of one of the windows he noticed a pale hand stretching out, palm up, letting the leaves lightly move against her hand as they swayed with the thin branch.  
It was serene. Quiet. He could almost her eyes, half closed and unfocused as she watched her hand.  
“Such a sad girl.” The taxi driver spoke up and Sigurd blinked in surprise as he reached out for his wallet. “Both parents dead and her brain is a bit mush, and if that’s not enough, she’s also in a wheelchair... Such a sad fate.” He said once more, the accent thick on his words.  
“Mush?”  
“Oh yes. My neighbor, she goes to check on her every day. The poor girl asks every day where her mother is. Apparently it takes her two weeks to remember old events. And her poor mother’s funeral was I think ten days ago. The girl cried for every single moment, but didn’t sob. Brave child.”  
“You know her?”  
“Everyone here does. She moved here six years ago, I think? And suddenly, both her and her father..But she was still such a darling girl, saying hello from her window. Offering cookies to the kids who would pass her by.”  
That did sound like her. Every single word sounded like something she would do.  
“Is there no one taking care of her?”  
“Not to my knowledge. We all chip in though, make sure she has dinner at least. But she will probably be moved to some institution soon. What a cruel fate.”  
“Why do you think that? She would get care there.”  
“Yes, her and two hundred others in the hospital. I’m scared to how she would react at waking up in a foreign place every day.” He said and sighed, before looking over to him. He narrowed his eyes slightly – but with no menace in them. “I could swear I know you from somewhere.”  
Sigurd glanced up to the meter and then down to his wallet, paying him in full with a small tip. He didn’t say anything else as he got his suit case from the trunk and stopped in front of the garden door. He heard the man yell after him as he stepped in the garden. But he decided not to go to the front door, instead simply leaving his bags by her porch, and going over to her window.  
Just as he rounded it, he saw her in the exact position that he imagined her in. Blue eyes focused on her pale palm, long hair falling over her chest, shoulder. Her lips were pale and her usual glee was gone.  
It was to be expected really. Would she even recognise him? Her brain was mush, after all. Would she know it’s him, would she remember his name..? Would she know who he is?  
He focused his eyes on her, even though he could hear the door of the car close as the driver got out. The girl’s blue eyes shifted from her hand to look over to him.  
It all happened in a tiniest of seconds.  
There was a shout behind him, her lips tugged into a smile as her eyes settled on his. Her hand moved and pressed itself against his cheek, the tips of her fingers disappearing in his soft hair.  
“Oh Sigurd..” She breathed out and he felt as if the burden he was carrying all along magically disappeared, floated away into the wind and scattered its ashes along the floor. It was as if all these years never happened.  
Joanne moved – he could see the silhouette of her couch behind her as her other hand helped her heave herself up. She got thinner – all of her muscles were gone, any tan she ever had disappeared. Her freckles were more prominent because of it, those few little spots that stretched over her nose and the top of her cheeks. A few strands of her hair fell down, spilling over the window. He worried, only briefly that she might fall out from the window, so he took a step closer so that she wouldn’t strain herself.  
There was a loving look swimming in her blue eyes, her eyelashes dark against her skin. She watched him just how she did all those years ago, with the same kind of love. He could swear nothing happened – as if these eight years never occurred.  
He could feel her fingers move along his cheek, her thumb brushing a bit under his eye, her fingers curling slightly around his hair, nails scarping against his skin. His breath was a shudder, something that seemed to come from his very core.  
Her lips, those lips he kissed until they were swollen, those lips that ghosted over his skin in the early morning, the lips that formed all those sweet words she whispered to him in the dead of the night parted, and he could swear that he would listen to her for the rest of their little forever.  
“Sigurd.. Why are you crying?”


	2. A bitter letter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sigurd takes it all in.

Of all the places in this world, Sigurd never expected himself to be here. To have his legs tucked under him, one elbow leaning against an arm rest of a comfy arm chair, and his dark blue eyes watching the dance of white and blue lights from the television on skin of the girl he believed had left him. He never believed he would be here, watching her sleep quietly, curled up under a soft throw that kept her warm. 

It reminded him of the life he craved for, all those years ago.

On days that were filled with sunlight and laughter, and light touches and whispers of words that made his heart warm up. 

This was something Sigurd expected himself to have, six years ago. To come back to Joanne with her silly jokes and laughter, to come back to their home, to come back to be happy. He always wanted this. He always wanted her. 

Yet life got in the way. 

Just as he was about to drift away, he noticed that her eyelids fluttered and opened slightly to look up to him. He was surprised at how clear they were, how softly she looked at him. As if he was the only thing she ever wanted to look at. 

Yet he wasn’t certain if he could give the same thing to her. He wasn’t the most caring man, he was forgetful and he wasn’t the most nimble person. He wasn’t open with affections and he wasn’t patient. How could he care for someone who was sick and weak?

And what about Eyja?

Despite the fact that he was with her just so he wouldn’t be alone, he couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t hurt her the same way he was hurt. The same way he was betrayed and left alone without any answers. He knew the pain of heartbreak all too well to deal it to someone else – especially to Ejya considering she was there for him, loved him, even though he wasn’t sure if he had feelings like that for her.

And the person that did that was now watching him with such a loving look in her eyes that it made him forget all about the silly things like betrayal and abandonment. 

“Is there something wrong?” She asks him, her voice soft and light and he shakes his head as he watched her. 

“Nothing. I’m just thinking about today.” He replies with the same soft tone, as if someone could hear them in this empty house. He watches as her lips tug in a smile and she shifts to sit up a little. 

“It’s been quite the day, hm?” She asked him, with a small smile. 

And it really had been quite a day for Sigurd. Joanne had been more than welcoming – even though he half expected her not to be. After all, she had been the one that decided not to speak to him anymore, the one that decided to disappear from his life. Yet, she welcomed him in.

At first it was a bit awkward. 

Sigurd didn’t expect her to be so small. So small, so frail, so.. Her skin was paler than he ever remembered it being, her hair was longer than ever before, but all of those pale characteristics faded away as he heard her talk. 

Joanne tried to make sure the whole conversations they had were on him. He did arrive in the late afternoon, but she still made sure the whole conversation spun around him. She wanted to know everything about his graduation, his university life, his work. 

After dinner, he made her show him her medications, and her routine. It broke his heart to see all the pills she had. At first he was worried that he would forget which go to when, but she had a nice box of three compartments, each with a specified time of day she had to take them, with the names of the medicines written under them. 

It was plenty. For her heart, for her muscles. Her vitamins, for her memory. For her proteins and minerals and for her bones. 

She showed him where she had to go to physical therapy and everything. She didn’t question why he came over – maybe she knew that her mother wrote the letter, or maybe she just didn’t want to ask him.

They then went to watch television quietly, but she drifted away soon enough, and he spent most of his time watching her, rather than the people on TV. She still fascinated him. 

Her changes were minimal, but he noticed them nevertheless. A scar peeking from under her bright blonde hair, the tiny curl that her hair made at the very edges. The fact she didn’t once move her legs. 

Yet here she was, smiling softly to him, sitting up to watch him.

She was still the most beautiful girl he ever saw and it made his heart ache. He should have been mad at her, resent her for what she did to him. And he was already forgiving her, whenever her lips tugged in a smile, or whenever she chuckled softly, or moved her hair from her face.

He forgave her the moment he saw her. 

“I thought I’ll never see you again.” Sigurd finally admitted as he watched her, looking for her reaction. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes looked in the low left and her smile fell. 

She was quiet, so quiet that he wished he could take those words back just to see her smile again. Just for the tiniest bit, he wanted to see her smile. 

But she looked up to him then and moved a little. He felt a shudder of fear for her pass through his body as she reached out with her hand for his just as her body was on the edge of the couch already. Still, he was frozen in place as her fingers went along his before she gently turned them over so she could lace their fingers together.

It was such a simple action, such a small tiny thing, and yet Sigurd felt like crumbling inwards from it. Here she was, sick and paralyzed, orphaned, with no one to take care of her, and she was still reaching out to help him. Him, a man with a stable job, a perfect health, nice home and a girlfriend who loved him more than he would ever deserve. Still, she held his hand softly.

“We were seventeen.” She said softly and smiled to him, giving a tiny nod. “We were just seventeen, Sigurd. And I knew you – you’d drop everything and try to be there for me, for my mom. Or you wouldn’t and then you’d beat yourself over it for months. I didn’t want to trap you like that, to give you such choices to deal with.”

Sigurd shook his head and gripped her hand tighter. It was soft, cold. “You deserved a proper life, Sigurd. Not a life worrying about me, about my health about... All of this. You deserved university, meeting new friends, getting the job you love. Not worrying about if I took my medications or not.” 

Sigurd didn’t reply, couldn’t reply. He wanted to scold her, call her an idiot. He wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter – because she wasn’t there to share their university years together, hand in hand. She gave up on them –and he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive her for that.

It was his silly dream that if he stayed there long enough, that he would get to be with her once more. That she would come back into his life, and she would love him more than ever before and he could be with the one person he always wanted to be with. 

He looked over to her, to see her sad and sorry expression. She was wrong, she realised it, she must have. 

He swallowed hard as Joanne leaned over to gently cup his cheek almost falling off the couch. “I’m..” Her voice wavered and she closed her eyes tightly, as she tried to calm down. 

He knew that whenever she made that face, Joanne was gathering her courage. He waited, knowing that if he pushed her, she might fall apart. 

And she was fragile as it is... 

But he couldn’t just sit there. He simply couldn’t. So, he moved getting off the arm chair to stand in front of her. It felt wrong somehow. It felt wrong to tower over her, knowing she can’t get up herself. That she can’t match his height. That she will forever be bound to something. 

He watched as she winced, pulling away. She was hesitant, but she reached out to gently take his hand, her fingers wrapping around his. They were cold – so cold that he wanted to cup them between his hands and blow warm air over them. Just like she once did for him in high school. But he didn’t. 

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper, a breath of pained air that escaped her bitten lips. “I’m sorry.” She repeated and he watched her lower lip tremble. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes filled up, the pale blue glistening in the faint light. “I’m sorry.” 

His posture crumbled, just like his strength to resist her. How could he? How could he resist his want to care for her, to shower her with the love he had for her, for her lovely smile, and dear eyes? How could he ever resist?

His knees pressed against the carpet, and he gently cupped her cheek. “Joanne.” He said softly, shushing her soft apologies. He moved his thumb to wipe away her tears. 

Her breath caught in her throat, and he could almost feel it. She slumped forward, her forehead pressing against his chest. He pressed his eyes closed together as well, and moved his hand to gently stroke her hair, brushing it down softly. It was so nice to touch, even though he half expected her to have dry and brittle hair because of her poor health.

It took her a little while to really stop crying and shivering. Despite knowing he probably should, Sigurd didn’t wrap his arms around her to comfort her properly. Maybe it was the bit of grudge that was still biting on his insides – maybe he just wanted to give her the chance to really let it all out without having to deal with the pressure of it.

However, once she did calm down, she looked up to him, and he could once again take in all of her features. The red tint around her eyes from crying, the way her cheeks were slightly reddened so some of her freckles were darker than the others, how her lower lip had tiny teeth marks in it from her biting onto it. She was close enough for him to see all those details.

Close enough to kiss.

Sigurd could see it in her blue eyes. She wanted to kiss him. It was a glance he knew far too well, glance he saw whenever they had a free period, or were out together. She’d tilt her head slightly and bump her nose to his before she’d finally kiss him. It was a short process, one that could be prolonged or cut short – depending on the situation. 

He wanted to kiss her.

He didn’t want to kiss her.

He couldn’t cheat on Eyja – morally speaking, it was wrong. He would be cheating on her. Hurting her, even if she didn’t know what he had done. His action would hurt her, especially if she did find out what he had done, just a few hours after promising her he’d come back to her. 

He didn’t want to give her the pleasure of kissing him. As if the hurt she done to him, the way she broke his heart didn’t matter. She could just kiss him and it would be fine. No, he wanted to yell, that’s not how it works.

Yet every other cell in his body demanded to kiss her. To run his fingers through her hair, rest them on the back of it, as his lips would move over her chapped ones. To feel her fingers going up his chest to his cheek, to feel her strangled breath against her skin.

It was her touch he craved for years on end, every night, every lonely night. 

Sigurd pulled away before she could even tip her head to the side.

“I should help you to bed.”

It was brief, flashing quickly in and out of her eyes: the realisation what a mess she made. He saw it a few times before – once when she spoke back to a teacher and one time when she told him that he was too cold sometimes. Both times, she apologised before the other person could even process what the dumb girl said.

This time she didn’t apologise, but gave a simple nod. 

With the television turned off, and the throw folded back in a corner of the couch, Sigurd dipped his arms under her, and carried her upstairs to her room. Joanne was quiet, not saying a word since then. She knew he knew that she wanted to kiss him and his reply of pulling away was silent but deadly. 

“On the right?” He asked as he carried her over the last step.

“Left.”

He gave a tiny nod and opened the door on the left, turning on the light by rubbing his shoulder over it. The light illuminated the soft cream room – a colour she probably never chose for her room. The whole room had her mother’s touch in it.

Plush bed, soft, pillows, multicoloured throws. Pictures on the walls, cupboards – pictures of her father, her childhood friends, pictures of the two of them. Joanne probably did put up those pictures, but this whole room was missing her sports equipment. She was always fantastic in sports back home, and this... there was no reminder of how well she was in it. 

Without a comment he gently laid her down on the bed, her hands slipping off his neck without protest. She looked small in this rather large bed. Small. Fragile. Sigurd glanced to the nightstand, not surprised to find a picture there and what looked like a small gaming console. Quietly, he picked up a picture of them from their trip to the country side, hand in hand, her lips split in a wide smile and him looking like he just saw the ugliest bug – he hated the guy taking the photographs. 

Yet, here it was. Right beside her bedside. The first thing she saw every day.

Her room looked like she was stuck in one moment of time, the moment before she lost her legs. It froze the time, but it didn’t freeze her. She was moving, slowly, away from the girl that was she once. 

He looked to her and sighed. “Are you good on your own for now?” He asked her, and the girl nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I can change on my own. You should probably get some sleep.” She said, and Sigurd gave a nod, the picture going back on the nightstand. His dark blue eyes lingered on it briefly, before he spoke up again.

“I’ll come over in the morning then.”

Joanne blinked, blue eyes confused. “You’re not staying here?”

“Hotel.”

“But that’s expensive. And I have one... Two free bedrooms.” The house was quite spacious – for what reason, Joanne wasn’t sure. Maybe her parents wanted a second child – or they simply wanted more space. Who knows? 

And with her parents gone, the master bedroom was free. Empty. So it made sense that he’d save up on money by not going to the hotel to spend the night when he could easily just crash at her place. Still, Sigurd shook his head and pulled away.

“I’ll come around nine. That’s when you need to take your meds, and eat right?” He said, and after getting a nod as an answer he went to the door. 

“...Sleep well.” He murmured softly and closed the door swiftly behind him. He just couldn’t... He needed air. He needed to think, to process what had just happened and what was even going on.

His hotel room was plain- a stark difference to the room with pretty curtains, colourful fairy lights and pictures. It was there when all the dark thoughts started to gnaw on him. 

They came from the logical side of his brain, the side that demanded some logical explanation to what she did to him. To what she did to them.

Her explanation that she didn’t want to drag him down with her was not enough for him. Was Joanne that selfish that she wouldn’t even let him make a decision for himself? Was she that cruel? Did he really know her as much as he thought he did?

Maybe this was all a huge mistake. He didn’t want to be here – he had better things to do. He had to finish his science paper, run that last experiment. He and Eyja were talking about getting a larger cupboard, so they had to settle that. Joanne didn’t fit in his life.

How was he supposed to take care of a cripple? He didn’t know first aid, didn’t know shit about nursing. She’d be better off in a home than with him.

Yet...

Joanne was alone in this world. All of her friends moved on, her family was gone. Sigurd was all she had left. It felt ironic to him. When they were dating, he wasn’t popular, didn’t have any friends. All he had was her and his parents. Now, he had friends and a girlfriend, plus both of his parents were alive and well. 

A sick thought crossed his head.

Maybe, the only reason he was contacted, was because she had no one left. Literally no one. And he could have his revenge on her, now. He could just walk away. Call social services; tell them he can’t take care of her, and bam. He’s job is done. He could give her the taste of her own medicine. Payback. 

He wanted to make her feel like he had. Make her feel the sharp pain of realising that you did something wrong unknowingly, let it haunt her, day and night, day and night, until she’s left shivering and crying in the darkness all by herself. Make her think and think about her guilt. 

The dull, empty room was suffocating and he needed a break.,

Getting his wallet, Sigurd exited the room, but stood still in the hallway for a few long moments as he collected his thoughts. He had to leave, he had to get his mind off of Joanne, even if it was just for a few, short moments.

Alcohol.

It was a short trip to the bar, and before he knew it, he sat in a corner nursing one drink after another. He wanted to burn the image of her hopeful smile out of his head. 

He had to think of something else but that beautiful smile.

A drink after a drink, just to get his mind off of her. The thoughts of her plagued him, making him wish to be with her, and be away from her.

He wanted to touch her and yet not feel her.

He focused his deep blue eyes on the drink, his fingers running along the glass, watching the drink glow in the faint dark. 

And no drink gave him advice. It just made him stumble back to his room and fall asleep in a hard, dreamless sleep.  
When the alarm clock resonated through the room, the sound sharp and blaring, it made him regret that last few drinks.

Sitting up, Sigurd ran his fingers through his hair, before pressing the heel of his palm against his eye as his other hand flipped his phone around to look at the time. Eight thirty. He won’t make it in time. 

Good, in the back of his mind it resonated. Good, make her wait, how you waited for years.

Sighing went to his bathroom to shower, hoping the hot water will have more answers. Of course, it had none, just the sweet relief of the hot water hitting his slightly tense muscles. Relaxing, and letting out a shaky breath, Sigurd watched the water drip down his body, to the drain. How did she wash herself? Did she run a bath and shift into it? Did she still use the soft shampoo that smelled of apples? Did freckles still dust her shoulders?

His fingers pressed against his shoulder, going in soft circles to undo the knots that tensed in there, letting them work out, relaxing his muscle. How could he decide what to do? 

A part of him wanted to leave her there, without even saying a tiny goodbye, but another part wanted to go and give her a second chance. She needed the second chance. 

Nine o’clock had surely passed as he dried his hair. After folding the towel down, Sigurd looked up to the mirror. For a second, he couldn’t recognise his own reflection. The hollow in his eyes was present, yes, but his eyes didn’t look as hollow as before. His face had some colour in it, and even his posture was better.

No. 

Joanne had no right to have that effect on him – not after what she did. 

Turning away from his reflection, Sigurd grabbed his clothes and got dressed quickly. Just as he finished buttoning up his shirt, he noticed the time. Nine thirty am. He was already half an hour late. He wondered what she was doing right now. Was she waiting for him? Did she manage to make her own breakfast? Did she take her medicine? 

Why was he thinking about that anyway? 

In the taxi to her house, he took his phone and decided to call his girlfriend. She picked up after a few rings, and they spoke briefly. She told him that she’s at work and can’t talk long, but he promised to call later tonight, before bed. It was kind of nice to hear her voice. It took him by surprise, but then again he figured it had to have such an effect on him considering they have been dating for quite some time now.

The door was unlocked, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. 

He didn’t expect to see her in the hallway, facing the door. Yet, she was there, in her wheel chair. She braided her hair over one side and had a red throw over her legs. He noticed some crumbs along her shirt, probably from a cookie of some sort. 

She was waiting for him.

Sigurd felt the urge to yell at her, to tell her that she wasn’t playing fair. She shouldn’t be waiting there for him; she shouldn’t have smiled so widely when she saw him come in. She should be mad, upset. Not so god damn cheerful.

“Good morning!”

He was silent as he watched her, watched her pretty blue eyes sparkle from excitement. He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. Wasn’t her brain fucked up, making it hard for her to remember things? Why did she remember this? 

“Was the traffic bad? Oh, I heard that the traffic can be real slow here.”

“I took a taxi.”

“Ohh.” She hummed, and he wondered if she thought that he was avoiding her on purpose, or he was trying really hard not to stay close to her, or... Something. 

“My neighbour is a taxi driver here. He is very nice.” Joanne said and smiled, before looking down to herself. “...When did I get these crumbs on...” She murmured softly as she dusted them off her chest. 

His dark blue eyes watched her, watched her move her fingers clumsily, and he could see that her braid was crooked, that her shirt hanged off of her, and that when she looked up to him, that there was more freckles on her right cheek than her left.

Stupid details like that made his heart turn painfully in his chest. 

“Did you take your medicine?” He took off his jacket without looking at her any further, placing it on the hanger. Joanne hummed softly, gathering his attention, before nodding. “I did.”

“How do you know?” 

Joanne looked up to him, blinking slowly as she thought about what he meant about that. He could see the little wheels turn in her head as she thought about all of it. She lifted her hand up and turned her wrist up to show him a pen mark on her wrist.

“I do this. When I have to drink medicine and I’m alone I use the pen to swatch my arm so I remember. I swatched it... so.” She explained and gave him an innocent smile, like a little child showing their parent the drawing.

Sigurd watched her silently, before nodding slightly. “Anything special you need to do today?” He asked and tilted her head slightly, confused by his question once more.

“A doctor, or something.” He grumbled, tucking his hands in his pockets. 

Joanne made a small ‘oh’ sound, before shaking her head slightly. “Nope! I’m all yours!” She chirped innocently, and her innocence, her genuine want to spend time with him made acid raise in his stomach. How could she still be so happy, after all that happened to her, after all that she’s done?

Sigurd looked straight her in the eye, before tapping his finger against his bag strap. “I have work to do.”

“Oh.” Joanne blinked slowly, before nodding. “That’s alright. Could you help me to the couch?” She asked, and he nodded, taking off his shoes before finally approaching the wheelchair. 

Joanne didn’t say anything as he wheeled her in and help her on the sofa. He silently watched as she pulled her legs under herself, before carefully arranging the throw over her legs. Once she was done getting comfortable, she gave him a proud grin. “Tadaa!” 

Sigurd gave a nod and sat down in the arm chair, before taking out his laptop. He glanced briefly upwards to look at her, seeing a brief flash of disappointment before she shifted to lean against the arm of the couch to watch the road outside of her house.

At first, Sigurd really tried to work. He opened his documents, and stared at the words and charts displayed on it, but he often found himself glancing upwards to her.

He watched the way the sun rays wash over her as she leaned out, watched her lips turn upwards and fingers move for a wave whenever anyone passed by, watched her look as serene as possible.

Would their lives look like this had she not left?

Would he spend his days close to her, in this soft silence they shared, working while she did her thing? Would they be happy like this?

He didn’t even notice her looking his way. When he did finally notice those light blue eyes on his, Joanne spoke up.

“Isn’t it nice when the days are this warm? I always really liked summer.”

Sigurd frowned, forcing himself to look down to his laptop in attempt to try and focus on it so she could get the hint and be quiet. His headache was slowly growing worse, and trying to keep a conversation with her now seemed impossible.

Such silly small talk to him seemed ridiculous. Small talk was never his forte either way.

How could he then do it with her?

She broke his heart and now acted as if she hadn’t done such a thing. As if just yesterday, she told him about her adventures in her new school. 

As if she was innocent.

There was such a strong need to yell, to tell her all the things he thought about what she did to him, what she did to them. Did she have no remorse?

Maybe if his head was not throbbing with his hangover, maybe then he wouldn’t be so bothered by this, maybe he’d be more forgiving, have more understanding for this, for what she did to them. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so bitter towards her. 

Maybe.

“But, then there are mosquitoes and they always tend to wake me up. Mom always puts aloe vera on the stings though, so that hurts less.”

He gritted his teeth and looked down to the laptop, trying to focus on the data displayed there rather than to focus on her. He shouldn’t be okay with this – she just acted as if this was fine as if all these years hadn’t happened. 

As if she didn’t break him.

“Could you keep it quiet? I’m trying to work.” He grumbled softly, fingers lifting to press against his temple, as if that would help him. He knew that she didn’t mean anything bad, but it was still... annoying. 

“Oh.” He could see her faint smile, before she shifted to sit facing him. He looked up, their eyes meeting, and focused on one another.

“But...” She started, and he frowned slightly. If this was another comment on summer... “Do you think you could get used to this? To us being like this?”

Fuck.

Her voice sounded so hopeful, she looked just... happy. Serene. As if she was waiting for this moment to finally arrive, for them to be like this. 

We could have had it, he wanted to yell. We could have had it all, if only you haven’t thrown me away like you did. But she did just that and he couldn’t bite his tongue anymore.  
He didn’t want to bite it anymore.

“We could have had it, had you not thrown me away like you did.”  
Joanne winced, and he could see her hesitation and hurt flash over her pale face, before her lips tugged in a tiny smile. “I did it for your sake. But you’re here now-“

“For my sake? For my fucking sake?” He took a deep breath through his nose, not wanting to blow up on her. It wasn’t proper. It wasn’t right. Would she even understand it, would she even begin to understand him?

Would she even want to?

“You had no right to decide what is right for me, Joanne.”

He watched her expression, trying to find remorse in her expression, her grief, her... but she showed none of it. Just soft silence as she had let him finish what he wanted to say, before she spoke up.

“I just wanted you to be happy.”

He narrowed his eyes, and felt spite fill his mouth like stomach acid. He wanted to yell at her, wanted to scream, he wanted to grab her by her shoulders and shake her, in attempt to make her understand that she was wrong. But would she even try to understand that she’s wrong?

“I was happy with you.”  
It was the truth – the painful, soul wrenching truth. He was happy with her for the first and last time.

“But I know you wouldn’t be.”

With a loud snap, Sigurd closed his laptop, and slowly looked up to her, eyes cold and glare sharp.

“Don’t you see it? I’m trying to tell you that I... I would have been there for you. I would have been there for your father’s funeral, I would have been there for you while you were in the hospital. I would have been there for your mother, for you, for...”

“And you wouldn’t have gone to university in peace, wouldn’t-“

“It would still have been my decision!” He got up, fingers clenching his laptop. “You can’t decide what happens in my life, Joanne! You just /can’t/.” He swallowed hard, and settled his eyes on her.

“You can’t just leave me, and then... then expect me to be here for you, as if nothing bad had happened between us. As if all those years haven’t happened. As if...” He squeezed his eyes shut tight, before looking up to her once more.

“You can’t assume I want this now, after all these years.” 

Joanne watched him before swallowing hard. He could see the tiny tears in the corners of her eyes, could see her fingers shivering in her lap. He was hurting her, and he... couldn’t do that either. He didn’t know what to do anymore.

What he did know, is that he needed air. 

“... I’m going to go buy... milk. Yea- you don’t have it.” He wasn’t sure if she did have it or not, but he needed an excuse. He needed something to do when outside, something to keep his mind busy with.

Joanne watched him, and gave a slow nod. She didn’t want to fight him, didn’t want to say anything and he wasn’t sure if he was glad for it or annoyed with it. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Tucking his laptop in his bag, he stepped out the house without even saying goodbye, and started down the road. After all, he was certain that he was going to come back to her with milk in his hands. 

He looked back to the house when he was by the gate, and he could see her sitting by the window, her pale blonde hair waving slightly in the wind. He could see her lifting her hand to wave to him, and he really wanted to just get some milk and come back to her. Then he’d sit down and talk it out with her.

But when he turned around the corner he realised he just couldn’t stay.

He had to leave.

Sigurd had to leave her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for taking so long. The final chapter shouldn't be so long in the making!


	3. The last letter.

Eyja’s fingers trailed over his shoulder in a soothing motion. From the middle of his shoulder, and then slowing as it came to the top of his shoulder, as the nails finally steadied on his shoulder tip, the nails then slowly slid down to his arm. His eyes were barely open since he couldn’t force himself to open them fully and see Emilia’s face.  
The sound of the door closing, the gravel that crunched as he walked away, the breeze that slowly picked up as he walked away from Joanne. He left her all alone in that small house, left her waiting for him just as she did it to him. 

He called the social services and explained everything to them. After he landed back in his hometown he received an e-mail saying that she’s been settled into a special care home. They left him a number and an address if he wanted to call, but he deleted the email. He had to get back to his life, get back into the routine.

Eyja welcomed him home with open arms. He refused to say anything what happened, but he still assured her that nothing happened between them. She was satisfied with his answer after a couple of hours of subtly asking him, and now everything was back to how it was before.

Get up with the alarm.

Wash up.

Go to work.

Come back.

Have dinner together.

Read. 

Go to sleep.

No, the last task became harder and harder each day. Sleep was escaping him and his mind took the chance to plague him with thoughts of Joanne. Of her sitting all alone in that house, watching through the window to see him come back with the groceries, of her panicking as he didn’t show up.

He wondered what she thought. He wondered what she felt. 

He wondered what he thought. He wondered what he felt.

As days passed on, the day couldn’t hold back the thoughts of her randomly popping into his brain. Crumbs on his clothes made him wonder if she was eating properly. The light reflecting on the water made him wonder if she drank enough water. The people passing in the street made him wonder if she was watching people walking once more.  
Seeing himself in the mirror made him wonder if she was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her.

Eyja was still the same. Their life looked the same. Yet he felt like a good chunk of him was left back with her, back in that small sunlight bathed house.   
How did she do it, how did she manage to touch his heart to make it beat again and then take all of it when he left her? What kind of magic made him fall in love with her in a matter of moment, after all these years?

“You haven’t been sleeping properly lately, Sigurd.”

Her voice was still uneasy in his ears, and he merely gave a lazy nod to her odd sentence. Silence followed for a few moments before she spoke up again.

“What are you thinking about?”

He opened his eyes, his meeting her dark blue, almost violet eyes. He wanted to tell her the truth, that he constantly rewinded those few hours with Joanne in his head. That he is constantly thinking about how she is dealing with that special care home, that he’s worried that she’s struggling and suffering all because of him. 

He left her all alone, and the mere thought of what he had done was haunting him. 

But he couldn’t say that not when she was this close to him, in his bed, keeping him warm. It hurt – Ejya deserved someone who would love her and give her so much until her heart was bursting with love and care from others. 

Instead, she had him, a man who longed for one girl that loved him so much that she was willing to break her own heart just to give him a life she thought he wanted.   
“... Work.” He muttered softly, and her fingers drifted up, brushing over his cheekbones, with a small kiss pressed to his forehead.

She fell asleep soon after, but he stayed up once more.

The warm spring melted into a hot summer, and then once more, the rain welcomed autumn in his home. 

He started to sleep finally with the help of prescription pills. He didn’t think of her as much because he picked up more work than ever before. He tried his hardest to pretend to Ejya that he loved her. Just like Joanne did, he had to break his own heart.

“... Sigurd.” 

Her voice still made a small sting on his back, and the pale man turned from the window to Ejya, all curled up on the couch, with her white hair curling around her shoulders.   
“You stare at the window a lot. I just noticed.” She smiled at him, before looking back down to her book.

And it hurt.

Like a blade that got stuck between his ribs, so that with every breath he took it would slice his internal organs more. He looked through the window just as she did. Hand outstretched out to let the leaves brush over her fragile fingers. 

Just like that, he felt the tears drip down his face. 

“...”

He took one breath in, before looking back to her.

“I’m leaving you.”

 

The new days weren’t anything like before. Everything changed. 

The apartment got emptier. Some of his dishes were smashed, and the closet had far more space than before. He didn’t have to hurry up in the bathroom anymore, but he wondered if this quiet was what he needed.

But he knew that the quiet will soon disappear. 

Sigurd knew what he had to do, so he was redecorating his apartment. Getting a tub instead of a shower, lowering the counters, stocking up on first aid supplies, reading about how to take care of a disabled person. 

Everything.

Hell, he was reading about physical therapies you could do at home while he was on the plane. 

In reality, he hated himself for deleting the email, because he lost almost over a week to find where she was. 

It was a redecorated and a good sanatorium, but it was still that. As he got out of the car, he was stunned to see it. It was in the middle of nowhere and there were no streets with people walking around for her to watch. She hated dull things – and despite this being a relaxing retreat, she probably didn’t like it. 

Still, he took in a deep breath and walked in. He had to see her, he had to take her home with him, they had to make it up to one another.

The snow was melting around him, the first traces of a spring showing. Had it really been almost a year since he got the letter from her mother? It felt longer, decades longer.   
But he had to see her, he had to speak to her, he had to.

He had to make it right.

He stepped out of his car with the flowers in his hands. His hand shivered, so he tightened his grip on them.

There was no point in prolonging this anymore – he wanted to be with her, he wanted to have a life with her that they imagined when they were children. He wanted to have a normal, wonderful life with the woman he loved beyond words.

So, he went down the steps to the entrance, greeted by a nurse at the reception desk. He didn’t put on a smile or anything like that – he always thought those things were a tad bit fake and unnatural to make when you greeted someone for the first time.

“Hello,” He immediately went off with English, deciding not to even try speaking in Danish, “As far as I know, Joanne Andersen, is one of the residents here. I’d very much like to see her. My name is Sigurd Heyerdhal, you can ask her who I am, she’ll know-“

“Joanne?” The nurse interrupted him, looking a bit surprised. There was a brief, odd expression on her face before she smiled. “Let me first call her doctor- you should speak with him first.” 

Sigurd didn’t like that turn of the events that much, but he had to agree and just go with it, he supposed. The sooner the doctor shows up, the sooner he sees Joanne and he can finally make amends with what he did to her. 

To them.

“Mister Heyerdhal, right?” The doctor showed up only a few minutes later, offering him his hand to shake. The doctor looked well into his forties, tall and rather slender, with his hair carefully combed. 

Sigurd nodded, shaking his hand. “I’m here to see miss Andersen.”

“Well, if you would be so kind to first go to my office.” The doctor took him to his office, and once Sigurd sat in front of his desk, the doctor took one of the files from a box beneath his desk. That was an odd place to put a file, but Sigurd didn’t care. 

He will take her from this place and give her a safe and warm home. He will take care of her, whatever she might need to give her and him the best life possible.

There was a brief moment of silence between them before the doctor spoke. 

“It’s very odd to have you finally here. Joanne told me almost everything about you already, often sitting in that very same spot, playing with her long hair and just… talking about you. About what a warm and kind person you were behind the wall that you put up for others. She talked a lot… A lot about you.”

It slightly rubbed him the wrong way that he used the past tense when talking about her. Was there something wrong?

No – there couldn’t be. After all, Joanne was to go home with him. He finally found the place she stayed in and he could finally take care of her.

“She talked a lot about the people in her life. About her strong father, who had put his arm out to protect her as their car had tumbled over. About her mother, who was always sickly, but pushed herself beyond her limits to care for her. About her neighbours and the neighbourhood kids who often would come to talk to her from her window. But – it was mostly about you. How you will show up soon, take her home and apologize. How you two will finally have a happy ending.”

Sigurd gritted his teeth. Still the past tense. “That’s what I came here to do. I’m here to pick her up and take her to my home. I’ll take care of her from there and… Yes. I’d just like her discharged so I can take her safely home.”

The doctor leaned back in his chair, watching him.

“Joanne isn’t with us anymore.”

Sigurd swallowed hard. 

He must just mean that she was maybe taken care in another facility. That’s all. He will get in his car when he gets the address and go there. 

He will go to her.

“Where is she?”

The doctor frowned before he opened the file. He went through multiple papers, before finding one he seemed to have been looking for. He took a free piece of paper and wrote something before giving it to Sigurd, who took it without hesitation ready to get up and leave.

But something was wrong with the address.

It simply read some Danish name – he figured some small town nearby.

And the next line said: Plot 182. 

Sigurd stared, feeling everything slowly, slowly fall into place. 

No.

“Her health went worse, in a matter of days since she came here. She had constant panic attacks because she believed something happened to you. She said you just went to the store, and you aren’t back yet. We tried contacting you, but we were told you didn’t leave any information.”

No.

“As her panic attacks grew worse, so did her memory. Her only memory became of you leaving and she cried or screamed for help. She got hurt often, because she’d try to climb out of her bed to look for you herself, until one day… She fell and hit her head.”

No.

“We had her bound to her bed, which only made things worse. One night, she woke up, crying like a lost child. I sat with her all night, and she asked me if we were doing this so she didn’t have to know if something bad happened to you. She asked me, has Sigurd been in an accident like me? I couldn’t reply because I didn’t know.”

No.

“One day, she was staring out of the window and… I came to see her. Check up. She mumbled how she could see you… there, in the forest. She said her parents were right next to you, and since ten she started hallucinating. Her mental state was gone – she was fully delusional. And one night, as a nurse came to see her because her life signals were low, she told her that she will go to the forest to see you. She didn’t wake up.”

Sigurd pressed a hand to his mouth as he managed to read the next line on the paper.

A family grave.

“No one but a few members of staff could attend her funeral. I hope that she did find her parents. But it seems like she never managed to see you in the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes the story.  
> I don't have a lot to say. I'm sorry it took so long, but it is here now.  
> I only want to leave you all with this thought.
> 
> If you love something, will you be able to bury that feeling and be alright with it or will you hold it dear to your heart until you feel it completely - even if it crushes you?


End file.
